In Flagrante Delicto
by Doreiku
Summary: A confrontation in Potions class reveals Harry and Severus' transgressive relationship.


"Mr. Potter." Snape enunciated lazily, effectively getting Harry's lewd attention, "I expect this type of atrocious paper" he gestured to the sheet currently under his scrutiny, "from the Weasly boy, but surely not from the amazing boy-who-lived."

Harry glared at his teacher, scowling at the amused glint in Snape's black eyes. He stood abruptly, chair scraping the floor loudly, hands rolled in tight balls on his desk. "You might be able to expect better work if you actually taught something in this class." He spat the next word, "Sir."

Snape rose to his full height and stalked forward, every nerve in his body aching for revenge. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for cheek."

The-boy-who-lived wouldn't stand for this. This evil man had gotten away with so much already. Harry opened his mouth to earn those lost points when the Slytherins chuckled lowly, awaiting blood shed with eager thirst. "Sir, that was not cheek." Harry took a deep breath, "Calling you a greasy bastard would be cheek, however true it may be."

The potions master glared at the boy, hovering nearly an inch away. "What would a blithering idiot such as yourself know about being a bastard?" Snape's lips curled into vicious sneer, "Ah, that's right. Your arrogant, foolish father is dead."

Hermione and Ron gasped, like every other Gryfindor in the class, in complete horror. Harry's eyes blazed, abhorring the man in front of him like never before. Yet Snape taunted him further with that amused, nasty smirk on his face, a cruel mocking laughter resonating in the black coals called eyes.

The class stifled another gasp, this time even the Slytherins joined, never before having seen the potions master raise a hand to one of his students. Snape's hand reached out, seeking the boy's throat. Harry saw this, yet decided before he went to Madam Pomfrey, he would defend James Potter.

"You bloody bastard! My father was-"

When Snape closed his hand around Potter's flesh, the room silenced immediately. No one, Slytherin nor Gryfindor, dared to make a sound. They only stared at their teacher and the Chosen One locked in a completely different type of battle.

Snape grasped the back of Harry's head, forcing their mouths together. For an instant Harry froze, in terror just like the rest of the class. However, no more than a second passed and he was pushing against Snape with need, hands clutching his professor's greasy hair urgently.

He was pushed against the table, Ron still frozen in place beside Harry's chair. Snape's tongue plunged into his mouth as Harry slid his arse onto the table. The-boy-who-lived gave a vulgar moan and opened his legs, a sure sign for Snape to get closer.

Snape slid between Harry's legs without a moment's pause and gave a terse groan when those legs wrapped around his waist. With a whine, Harry clutched Snape's back as the man's lips hungrily scoured his throat. So wet. So perfect.

"Ah… Professor…" Hands quickly darting into the legendary hair once again. Snape retorted with a sharp bite, sure to leave a mark. But neither cared. It felt too good to object. Harry begged for more, coaxing Snape with teasing thrusts of his hips, the friction tormenting both males.

"Snape!" Harry moaned louder, and manipulating Snape's lips back to his own lonely mouth, the-boy-who-lived, eyes half-lidded with lust, quickly noted the wide eyes staring at him. At himself and Professor Severus Snape. "P-professor…" His tone was completely devoid of all seduction now. But Snape interpreted this as hesitation.

"What is it, Potter?" The potions master snarled, his voice thick and husky. Harry watched his fellow peers' eyes widen further, if that was even possible, at the same time.

This time Harry tugged at Snape's head, though his mouth only bit harder. The boy had to clench his teeth together to withhold another moan. "Professor." A whisper.

Snape growled an exasperated mutter of swears. Then his eyes picked up something red. That horrid red… And then it pieced together. Weasley red.

Weasley's eyes were round in disbelief; the potion he was attempting daring to boil over.

Without a word, Snape smoothed his robes, making sure not to meet the green, imploring eyes, and strode to the front of the classroom.

Harry was frozen. The classroom's eyes, as if one, darted between the their professor and Harry Potter. But the boy couldn't even blush, never mind return those incredulous stares with his own glare.

"Potter!" Snape barked and before the boy could answer, he added, "Detention. Eight o' clock. And sit in your seat, for the love of Merlin."

* * *

Someone requested a rec for this type of story at the Snarry Fic Find LJ Community, and having been quite some time without luck of finding such a fic, I made it a personal challenge. Keep in mind, it's my first fic in this fandom :|

Thank you, Shorty Carter, for being such an amazing beta~

-Doreiku


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